The Eternal King
by DarthSovereign
Summary: Harry Potter is born not as any would expect, leaving a powerful spell to be placed on him. Now he makes his way to Hogwarts, crumbling all obstacles in his path. With a power unlike any other he leaves everyone around him one choice, follow or die. StarWars crossover. Dark Harry.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

 **Formerly To Reign Eternal**

 _ **Important Note:**_ Do I need permission from DarthSovereign to write this story? No, because I doubt asking myself for permission would be anything but a waste of time. For those of you who do not know my original account, or rather the email attached to it, has been lost to time. So I am moving all works to this page. This was once where I stored old stories, but as I began to create new ones recently I decided to bring my most beloved story across with me.

 **Timeline:** I have chosen to change the timeline a bit, and with it my story. For any die hard fans I want you to know in terms of what I have already written changes will mostly come in the form of wording and mistake changes. It should, for all accounts and purposes, follow the previous rendering very closely.

 **Favorite Lightsaber?** The seventh sister's from Star Wars Rebels, I suggest those of you who have yet to see it give it a quick google. This information has little use for now, though this will be the blade Harry will use so I suggest you become familiar. My descriptive abilities are rather sub par.

 **Favorite Species?** Sith. No not the term used to refer to Dark Jedi in the later years of galactic history. I mean the red skinned, dark side inclined, super human species originating from the planet Korriban. They are like the dark elves of the Star Wars universe, and god do I love elves.

 **Hogwarts staring age:** Hogwarts students start school at age thirteen, meaning Harry will be 15 come the start of his third year. This will be common place for any and all Harry Potter stories I write, seeing as it allows me a little more maturity to work with.

 **Harry:** Harry Potter is _not_ a purely merciless machine hellbent on the total annihilation of all life in the universe. Yes, he is evil. However he is not a cold hearted monster without the capability of feeling emotions beyond hate. The dark side of the force is powered by the darker emotions, that does not mean that sith cannot use the other emotions too. There is no reason he should be incapable of friendship or even love. At the same time you should never expect him to refrain from absolutely murdering someone he considers a rival or even a pesky annoyance.

"English/Galactic Basic"

 _"Other Language"_

 _'Thought'_

 **~)** ) Even the smallest stone can cause the greatest of ripples ( **(~**

Bright overhead lights reflected blindingly off of the countless cream colored square tiles, bringing a much harsher illumination to the room than what was necessary. A steady beeping fulled the room, the diagnostic spell that caused them overshadowed by the pained grunts of a woman lying in the center of the room. A soft mist like screen hovered by her side, other diagnostic and monitoring charms designed to watch the woman's health and that of the young child she carried within her womb.

The young woman's face was contorted in deep pain. Long strands of her fiery red hair clung tightly to her sweat covered face. On occasion her back would arch as her body twisted in a vain attempt to get away from torment she was experiencing. The hand of the man by her side turned a ghastly white ash she tightened her grip on it.

A doctor stood over her, unflappable and deathly steady, dressed neatly in the soft white clothing that came with his profession. His simple brown wand waved over the woman, the spells coming from his mouth near silent due to the other noises. Every word kept the woman in the best possible health to insure the survival of her and her child. Every so often his eyes would turn to the nurse standing beside their patient whose own wand swung back and forth in an attempt to assist the doctor in any way she could.

"Last push Lady Potter!" The doctor said loudly, stowing his wand into his pocket and moving his arms below her raised legs. Within moments he could make out the head of the crowning child. "Here it comes my Lady, almost there!" His arms extended down farther to grab the babe as soon as possible. The woman's lips parted as her eyes slammed shut, a final scream left her, hardly audible from her overused voice.

A moment later the doctor rose, a bundle of ebony cloth in his arms, an ancient family tradition for the child to be wrapped in the color. The man's grey eyes were wide as they locked with the silent bundle in his arms, both things equally odd. Slowly he extended out his hands, preparing to pass the newborn off to the outstretched arms of Lord Potter, the man obviously ecstatic to hold his son. James's eyes shined with mirth and his lips were parted in a gentle smile, despite the worry over his firstborn's silence.

The moment James Potter laid his brown eyes upon his son he froze. All happiness drained from his face only to be replaced with pure horror. "Wh-what is the meaning of this!?" The enraged father demanded, daring the physician to say this was anything more than a jest gone wrong.

Yet in his heart James knew the truth.

Once more he looked down to his child and once more his heart did fill with dread. Black fabric gave way to reveal crimson skin, as dark as freshly drawn blood and covering every inch of the boy. Two eyes of a deep amber stared back, untold potential and power swirling within their horrifyingly beautiful depths. A small nub rested on either side of his jawline, even smaller nubs on the left and right of his chin. Atop his head and already thick head of hair, darker than even the blackest pits of Tartarus.

"I do not know, Lord Potter." The man's eyes remained locked on the small bundle of black fabric, his left hand idly toying with the wand in his pocket. "There are no text on this. In fact it has never even been mentioned before!" His grey eyes shot up, locking with the terrified and enraged eyes of the Lord, yet his own portrayed only excitement. "This is quite simply amazing!"

James nostrils flared, "How can you be so-so _cavalier_ about something like this?" He gestured with his free hand to the child now nestled tightly in the crook of his arm. All his life he had known this was a possibility, it had been so long, yet he had always hoped it would not be now, not him.

Crossing his arms behind his back the doctor's face became solemn. "I apologize my Lord, I forgot myself." Taking a few steps forward he removed his wand calmly, using it to motion toward the child. "There are...options. Though I doubt any of them would be even near permanent. A powerful glamour would be the safest and strongest option."

 **~)** )0( **(~**

An extremely loud bang was followed directly by the splintering of wood as the door gave way. Lily Potter jumped before the crib of her firstborn child, shielding him from the flying projectiles of heated wood. Through the smoldering remains of the doorway stepped a man, or perhaps what one would consider more monster than man upon witnessing his appearance.

His skin was a sickly shade of greenish-white, the color of decaying flesh. Every inch of his form was gaunt, black veins running underneath his flesh; the ever lasting effects from countless rituals taken in a quest for power. Crimson eyes moved to the red-headed woman standing protectively in front of her child, narrowing as they did so. A bone colored wand was raised in her direction, its tip glowing a deathly shade of green.

" _Move aside_ woman..." The thing ordered through gritted teeth. He took a threatening step forward. "I will not ask you twice."

Lily fell to her knees. " _Please_!" she pleaded, "Take me and not Harry, leave Harry I beg you!" Crystalline tears fell heavily from her eyes, her lips parted as sobs steadily escaped her.

A repugnant look crossed the man's face as he grew tired of the woman's sniveling. With a wave of his wand a wave of green light raced forth, in an instant Lily Potter was no more. A cruel smirk moved across his lips as he looked to the lifeless corpse of the dead mudblood. He moved to the child that would be his nemesis, raising his wand slowly.

There was no need to rush his newfound victory, it was all the sweeter when nothing could stop him. The tip of his wand slowly began to glow, the most fatal of curses ready to be used in a moments notice. Slowly the baby cracked its tired eyes, grinding the man's movements to a halt and bringing a look of confusion to his face. Amber eyes, not the green of his mother, nor the brown of his father; like molten gold caught in the throes of a whirlpool. He tapped his chin with the tip of his wand, mind racing as to how a child could hold so much power.

He would truly be capable of being a worthy foe.

 _'No matter.'_ He thought as his tongue tasted the dark words of the killing curse. The viridian spell raced forth, its deadly touch reaching out to grasp the child before it. In an instant the child's very flesh shimmered from existence, no longer a pale white, but the deep crimson of some unholy demon. With both horror and fascination the man watched as his own curse, the one he had used to slay so many before, bounced off the child and struck him directly in his diaphragm.

An unearthly shriek tore though the small room, shattering the window with its sheer intensity. The man's form dissolved into a fine white dust and from it rose a black specter, its form patchy and ragged, as if pieces of its spiritual forms had been torn away. For a moment the spirit stood silently, watching the child as his flesh once more turned pale.

With a wail of enraged defeat the spirit raced from the quaint little home, fleeing into the darkness of all hallows eve. The most powerful Dark Lord in a _very_ long time had been defeated this night by the last scion of the Most Ancient and Noble house Potter. All that remained of him was his wand and robes that radiated death magic.

Yet was this the downfall of a tyrant, or merely the herald of his replacement?

 **~)** )0( **(~**

In the very center of the many compartments filling the red steam-powered locomotive sat a young boy. A single pale hand reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair back in place among his onyx, short, and neatly combed hair. Bright amber eyes lazily scanned over the book before him, _Advanced Spells for Second Years._ A book he had read twice already though unfortunately was the only literature not inside his trunk.

He shifted slightly in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, his solid black acromantual silk slacks moving silently with him. As he grew more restless he began to fiddle with the cuff of his jacket, a short midnight colored double-breasted military jacket with leather cuffs, the hem never passing his waist. He had a few modifications made, namely the North African Nudu hide stitched into it. The same material his boots were made from.

A soft knock at the door drew his attention, as well as a slightly annoyed sigh.

A slothful wave of his hand opened the door as his powerful eyes fixed themselves on the woman entering. She was about his age if he had to guess, around five foot five making her four inches shorter than him. Her form was thin and was starting to show the budding of more mature curvature. Blonde hair fell down to frame a short, heart shaped face.

She was quite beautiful he noted as she turned her own violet eyes to him. For a moment a small, almost lustful look crossed through her eyes, before fading. Though he had also caught an inner fire much darker than the mask she seemed to wear, giving way to the monster hidden behind false walls.

With the grace of nobility she moved into the compartment. "May I sit here?" She asked, indicating to the seat beside him. Not once did she try to hide the slightly lecherous eyes that inspected him from top to bottom. Nor was it lost on him the seat across from him was empty as well.

"Be my guest." Politely he inclined his head, a crooked smile showing off part of his perfect teeth.

Without a word she stowed her luggage overhead, a small smile on her face. A smile that changed to a slightly daring smirk as she took the seat beside him. "Daphne, Daphne Greengrass and heiress to the Greengrass family." While introducing herself she held out a single dainty hand for him to shake.

Harry ran a hand through his hair with a short chuckle, "Hadrian James Potter, Heir to Houses Potter and Black." Ignoring the widening of her eyes at his name he took her hand and placed a light kiss upon her knuckles, allowing his lips to linger a moment. "I am always delighted to meet a lady, particularly one as enchanting as yourself."

Daphne's violet eyes sparkled with joviality at his words. "Handsome and debonair, I can only hope you are as sophisticated as you look." The flirtatious smile she was sporting was infectious as he found his own smile break loose.

His life had always been lacking on friends, not from any fault but his own that is. They never seemed of use. But an ally, a trusted adviser, even the greatest of emperors needed someone to confide in. After all he had to admit she _was_ rather beautiful, added to the fact that his magic trusted her. At all times his magic coiled around him like a viper ready to strike. It protected him, lashing out at those seeking to harm him, whispering subtle hints about the world around him.

Yet for the first time it did not attempt to smother an enemy or wash over a bystander, instead draping over the girl before him as if it was ready to protect her as it had always done him. His magic is what made him who he was, he would not distrust its choices now.

"What house are you hoping to be placed in?" A subtle attempt at breaking the ice despite the fact she looked more than at ease. In fact she looked ready to jump him at a moments notice and snog senseless.

Not that he would mind.

"I have no need to hope. There is only one place I would be sorted into, _Slytherin,_ and I would have it no other way." He looked down to the book still in his lap from the corner of his eye, finishing the last of the page before closing it with a soft _thud._ He grasped his chin between his thumb and forefinger, a smirk forming on his lips as he looked to her form the corner of his eyes. "Besides, it seems I have a beautiful new friend to follow be into the house of snakes."

She lowered her chin into her palm, a light blush dusting across her cheeks. With a smile she sent him a wink, "A man after my own heart."

Another knock at the door resounded through the room, drawing both their attention. Daphne stood to open the door but was stopped by Harry's raised hand. As she returned to her seat and sent him a curious look he simply sent her how own wink. With a wave of his hand Harry opened the door soundlessly, much to the amazement of the now wide eyed girl beside him. In stepped another boy around their age dressed in the plain black robes of an unsorted Hogwarts student. His platinum blond hair was slicked back fashionably and his grey eyes watched them curiously.

"Daphne." The newcomer nodded to Harry's companion, earning himself a small smile and nod from her. He turned to Harry, extending his hand out politely, the same darkness that had slashed through Daphne's violet orbs passed through his own grey eyes. "Draco Malfoy, heir to house Malfoy. Would you mind if I join the two of you."

Harry shook his hand with his now common crooked smile, "Of course."

After he too stowed his, Draco took a place across from Harry. The three settled into quiet conversation for some time, discussing their lives before today. As Harry had suspected Draco and Daphne had known each other long before today. Purebloods held countless balls and soirees, mostly designed to further themselves politically or financially, but it was more than enough time for a couple of their heirs to make friends.

"So Harry, do you have any idea what you want to do after Hogwarts?" Draco asked with his mouth half-full of a cauldron cake. Moments ago he had spoken of following in his father's footsteps as a nobleman and statesman, how quickly aristocratic tendencies could be thrown out the window.

Daphne turned to watch him curiously as she chewed through another bite of her licorice wand. She too had been more than curious about the topic, he was after all heir to two powerful and influential families, along with being renowned the world over since childhood.

Harry looked to either of his new companions, a playful spark behind his amber eyes and a smirk to match. "Why, take over the world of course." There was a moment of silence before the three burst into laughter. Despite the absurdity and humor in his tone, Draco and Daphne had an odd feeling he was deathly serious. "What about you?"

Draco turned to Daphne, who Harry had addressed with his question. His future was more or less set into stone, but Daphne had quite the options to pick from. She seemed to think for a minute before offering a simple shrug to accommodate her thoughtful frown.

An impish smirk found its way to Harry's face, his perfect white teeth shining through the gap. "You can join Draco as one of my dutiful minions then." The three shared another short round of laughter.

For a while longer the three settled into conversation once more, joking about Harry's plans to take over Europe, and then the world. The two had also been quite intrigued by their friend's ability to use wandless magic, a trait even Albus Dumbledore would have difficulty utilizing. Neither had really understood how it was possible to just be born without the need for a wand.

Halfway through the trip, just as Harry was in the middle of splitting his last licorice wand with Daphne, another knock echoed through the wood of the door. Without warning it slid open, stopping with a heavy thud. In charged a redheaded boy dressed in moth-eaten clothes and a trunk older than Harry's family line. Obviously one of the poorer children.

The newcomer eyed the three occupants of the room, his nose scrunching in disgust as he looked over Daphne and Draco. When he noticed Harry his eyes took on a jealous gleam. "I'm Ronald Weasely, but my friends call me Ron." He said proudly, jutting his hand out toward Harry with the expectation of a shake.

"We'll be great friends in Gryffindor, Harry! Now come on, you don't want to be around these dirty snakes." With the hand Harry refused to shake the boy took hold of the Potter heir, attempting to drag him from the compartment.

Daphne and Draco remained silent, watching with their true emotions veiled behind pureblood mask. Neither said a word as the room flooded with unimaginable power, a darkness swirling around them. As the windows began to cover with ice and each breath became visible, Harry directed a snarl toward the redheaded boy.

"Let go of me..." Harry's words were dark, quiet. An unnatural fury bubbling below the surface. Only Harry's two friends took note of the small arcs of electricity crackling up and down his arms.

Ronald turned back in an instant, dull blue eyes wide. "Harry? What are you talking about mate? Lets go!"

It took but a moment for the situation to change, those looking on would have thought it a burst of accidental magic. Harry tore his arm from the grasp of the other boy, the palm of his other hand slamming against Ronald's chest. A pule of magic raced up his arm and into the appendage, turning an ordinary slap into a raging train of destruction. The young Weasley was thrown from the cart where his back slammed into the wall outside.

As he slid to the ground Harry took a single step forward and raised his hands before himself. In a show of magic unlike any other the electricity arcing down his arm condensed into white hot bolts of lightning leaping from his fingertips. Ron cried out in agony and as quick as it had begun, it stopped. Harry sneered down at the boy, clothes now smoldering and hair slightly on end.

"Do not think to touch your betters, _weasel._ " Harry spat, slamming the door and locking it from any more intrusions. "What a banal little exhibitionist..." Was all he muttered to his new friends as he lowered himself back into his seat and returned to his book from earlier.

Harry was oblivious to Daphne and Draco, never once caring to notice the looks of amazement that had been locked on him from the moment Ron had been thrown from the compartment. It was hard to retain a mask when you saw something like that. He never saw the two of them lock eyes for a moment, a silent debate taking place between them.

After a moment they both nodded, giving Harry one look before going about their own buisness. Hadrian James Potter had earned himself two loyal confidants this day. If Harry Potter wanted to watch the world burn then they would be the ones to set it ablaze for him. After all, how could they ever hope to stop him even if they wanted to?

 **End.**

 **Chapter length:** I try to keep them around 4k-5k. Sometimes they are shorter than that and I apologize but that is how things are. This one ended up being 3.7k with the inclusion of the opening notes. I hate that it was so short, but I am trying to stick to my original design for the first five chapters. Why? Because there is no point in completely restarting a story I have part of already.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"English/Galactic Basic"

 _"Other Language"_

 _'Thought'_

 **~)** )0( **(~**

Any sane person would assumed the grounds to a country's most prestigious _magical_ school would have some kind of basic protection on the grounds. Hogwarts however, had no such protections. The air was chilled and biting, the slightly below freezing temperatures colder than on most days. Many students covered themselves in thicker coats and the later years cast series of warming charms on themselves and their friends.

In the distance a large man, the half-giant that Harry very clearly remembers busting through his door days prior, was calling out to the first years. Though the point was rather moot seeing as most first years were either too afraid of the large man to come close, or could not understand him. Though the man was not an idiot, but he very well might be, it was more that his accent was much too thick for some to fully understand.

"How are you not cold?" Draco practically hissed at him, obviously more than a little jealous that someone was not suffering as much as him. From within his heavy coat he glared at Harry who looked into the throngs of students in the same clothing as before.

The ebony haired teen crossed his arms behind his back, making the long elegant strides of a disciplined soldier. In place of the cheap, rough, and altogether bland robes of Hogwarts he had opted to remain in his much more comfortable clothing. Much to the displeasure of his new friends who did not want him to see him in trouble on their first day.

"The weather has never bothered me as much as others, hot or cold." Harry answered finally as he stepped into one of the boats, focusing entirely on keeping his balance as the poorly crafted vessel rocked from side to side. When it finally settled he extended his hand to Daphne, offering to help her into the boat.

She gave a small, shy smile as she took his hand and stepped into the boat. A light pink tinged her cheeks, though that could have been from the crisp breeze that blew by at that moment. "Thank you, Harry." She kissed his cheek in passing before taking a seat at the front of the boat.

Harry turned to take a seat he noticed Draco still stood before the boat, a light, playful pout on his face. Harry could already tell he was going to be tempted to push the idiot into the water between here and the castle.

"What?" Harry asked with a light smirk and a raised brow.

Draco's pout grew a bit deeper. "Aren't you going to help me into the boat too?"

Harry waved his hand, pulling the blond into the boat face first. As Draco grumbled from his place on the bottom of the boat Harry took his seat, rolling his eyes as he muttered, "Prat".

It was hardly a moment after Draco had taken his own seat that the boat started moving, commanded forward by the half-giant that stood in his own small ship. The poor craft looked ready to break apart and sink within the next few minutes. Of the many small boats his was the first to pass through the thick fog that hid the great castle from their view; as soon as he was through the fog fell away, revealing the place that would become their home for the next few years.

Lofty towers and aged battlements raised high into the air, their imposing towers baring down on the many students as they looked on in amazement. Lights shown within all the stained glass windows, perfectly illuminating the castle. Cracks ran through the embrasures and stone walls hinted at the great age to the structure. And from their place far below they could make out the heavily lit bailey and the figures of the older students arriving before them.

Harry had to admit, in this lighting the castle was rather- "Beautiful..." Daphne gasped out, finishing his thought for him as she scanned over the castle with wide eyes.

"Gods it's so magical." Draco muttered, eyes hungrily scanned over the ancient works of architecture.

Deciding to ignore the idiotic play on words Harry instead chose to shift his focus to the boats around them. More specifically, the one beside them. That annoying red-headed boy with the poor man's clothes was sat next to the girl he had met when looking for his own room. Bushy brown hair and overly large front teeth, as when he had met her a book over nonsense was stuck between her eyes. For example, her current book which was one the many depicting his early life.

All of which were absolutely fanfictional.

Checking for anyone that might be looking his way, and seeing none, a smirk formed on his face as an impish glimmer shone in his eyes. With a forceful wave of his hand he rocked their boat one good time, watching with hardly restrained laughter as it capsizing it and sending the two, and one deserving novel, into the ice cold waters of the Scottish lake.

Gasp sounded over the quiet lake as others saw the spill, then laughter erupted among the large group of first years. When Harry turned back, his own series of chuckles sounding off, he was met with the amused eyes of Draco Malfoy and the narrowed violet orbs of Daphne Greengrass. A future ruler of the world he may plan to be, but even he had fears and one was the danger lurking in those beautiful gems.

He threw his hands up in surrender, "Wasn't me, honest." He could hide his look of guilt, that was easy, but the laughter shone even in his eyes at the moment. Unfortunately Daphne could see that rather easily.

As her eyes narrowed farther Harry sighed. "Fine, it was me," he admitted in defeat, "but you know it was funny."

"Just don't get caught, I would prefer not to lose house points before we even have any." She pointed one scolding at him, her look the same and unwavering. God forbid he ever have to face this woman head to head.

"Yes mother..." He mumbled while rolling his eyes, only to yelp in pain as she flicked him across the forehead.

Draco coughed lightly into his hand with a bit of a smug look on his face. Though to Harry it sounded an awful lot like "You're already whipped." The internal laughter of the young Malfoy was drowned out by a sudden gasp. A simple wave of Harry's hand had sent him into the cold waters below, though Draco was lucky enough to be retrieved by his friend where the two from before were now drip drying in the slowly sinking boat of the giant man.

The platinum blond grumbled the entire way up the stairs, not at all happy with the situation despite Harry having graciously dried his clothes. After all, it would not do to gain a friend and then kill him indirectly through hypothermia. On a side note, when they reached the top of the seemingly endless stairs most of the first years were out of breath. Though Harry was perfectly fine and happy to note that his friends, while tired, were in decent enough shape to not be near the point of collapse.

Draco _did_ complain about how long the walk was though.

"I say we give him another chance, don't you agree dear Baron?" A disembodied voice rung out among the assembled first years. The voice was that of a fat, jolly looking man that had appeared, though not in the usual sense of wizards. He, along with his three companions, had simply glided through the stone walls and now hovered above the first years, pale and translucent.

The first, or at least the first that had spoken, wore the classical brown robes of a medieval friar and the odd cut to his blond hair to match it. By his side was another man, this one dressed in a doublet with a large ruff, pair of breeches, and tights. All of it from frills to buttons an interchangeable arrangement of crimson and gold. The obvious Gryffindor also sported long curly hair along with a mustache.

He hummed lightly in thought, tugging at his goatee with pursed lips."I don't know, Friar, what is it that you thing Helena?"

His question's target was obviously female, if not assured by the name, or her long and flowing dress done in silver and blue, then it was her face. Her delicate features and soft blue eyes looked thoughtful as she pondered the question imposed by her. She rolled her head to the side slightly in though, her deep black hair held firmly in place by a tightly done Greek-bun.

"In my opinion he has had quite enough chances..." Her voice was light and cultured, as if she calculated every outcome of what she was to say before hand. Harry could appreciate someone who had apparently spent most of their lives striving for knowledge and the power it promised.

The final specter huffed. His appearance was slightly different than that of the others. Neither the lavish clothing of nobility nor the simple brown robes of a friar draped his form. Instead he wore simple, though elegant clothing below a simple and smooth breastplate; Like that of a conquistador. Where the other ghost were clean his breastplate and some of the other clothing was covered in blood.

A single hand was resting atop the hilt of the rapier on his hip, the other tugged a little forcefully at his own goatee. It was easy to tell he was getting more that a little annoyed. His onyx black hair was tied back in a ponytail and, like his beard, was very neatly styled.

"I have heard enough of this!" Harry could also appreciate the cold, commanding tone of the man and the fear he instilled in those around him.

The friar was quick to change the subject as he turned excitedly to the assembled students. "Oh look, first years!" He practically yelled as he floated down closer to the assembled thirteen year-olds.

Harry rolled his eyes at what obviously an attempt to draw the new students into the many _wonders_ of magic and introduce the idea of things such as ghost. From what Harry could see most of the current first years were either purebloods or half-bloods so they had probably already seen some form of specter at least once in their lives. For these students this instilled nothing but the wonder as to why these ghost roamed the way they do.

That and any with wits to realize it could see that their entire conversation was very obviously rehearsed, borderline scripted. Though the annoyance in the bloodied man's voice was all too real.

Amber eyes became hidden as Harry closed them. Taking a deep breath he allowed his magic to flow throughout the area, letting it settle over all those assembled like a blanket of invisible fog. The magic of every student was laid out before him, he could feel how strong or weak they were, where their magic excelled and where it was lacking. He could feel the wands in their pockets and hands, the items within that gave them their power. He could even feel the trinkets many had brought from home and, in some cases, tell what it was they did.

A small smirk formed on his lips as his magic reached its intended targets, the four ghost stood aloft over the many students. Not but a small few had the magical ability to detect what was happening. As he scanned over the ghost he could feel something...off about them. These were not spirit of some long dead mortal clinging to their lives before death, nor where these some form of sentient enchantments.

These parasitic _creatures_ were nothing more than an imprint, much like that of a shoe left in mud or sand. They were simply manifestations of some dead person's magic given though and speech. They leached off the magical energies of all that was around them to keep themselves alive, so to speak.

Slowly Harry reopened his eyes, ignoring the curious violet orbs of Daphne, and instead settled his eyes on the four ghost that now watched him wide eyed and afraid. All students had turned to him as well, wondering what _he_ could have done to scare four people that were already dead. The friar was the first to run, flying quickly through the walls with the mysterious woman hot on his heels.

In what seemed to be a false display of courage, the Gryffindor colored ghost hovered away at a slower pace, though he did refuse to even look in Harry's direction. The final member of the quartet, the bloodied figure, eyed Harry up and down for a moment with a mix of curiosity and fear. Then he too trailed off into the walls of the castle, gone away from the demon that had discovered his nature.

A moment later a elderly Scottish woman ushered them into the castle.

The room they had been led to was grand, large enough to accommodate more than the roughly thousand students already huddled within. Four tables ran its length, one with drapings of forest green and cutlery of silver, another in blue and bronze, a thing in crimson and gold, and the final one draped in yellow with all its metals of a light black color. Of course it was obvious to pick out the houses if one should have the knowledge of their symbols and colors.

At each table sat students of all shapes and sizes. From the small second years still learning their place within the walls to the large seventh years, ready to move on into the larger wizarding world and start their futures. Each wore traditional Hogwarts robes outlined in the colors correlating to the house they had been sorted to, their house crest on their right breast. Right to signify it was lesser than that of their bloodlines, though few here had ones deep enough to count.

Above them was a spectacular sight, a ceiling that had been enchanted to show the sky above it. The light from the pale moon mixed with that of the braziers burning lightly at the outer walls of the room and the candles floating through the air.

At the back of the room sat a small rise, a door to its left. A long table sat atop this rise, the seats behind it either missing in action or filled with a teacher. In their center was a slightly larger, gold plated chair reminiscent of a throne. Dumbledore himself sat their, pretending to watch over all his new students, but Harry could feel the lingering gaze of the old man as it passed him specifically.

Harry watched with growing annoyance as a ruddy old hat was brought out, seemingly coming to life, and began to sing. Then, after an round of even more annoying applause, they were sorted one by one. All houses clapped when a new member was brought into their fold and the Gryffindors clapped for all new students, except for those sorted into their rival house; Slytherin.

Draco and Daphne had already been sorted into the lustrous house of snakes. They now rested in seats beside one another with a gap just big enough for Harry between them. Both watched silently as he steadily moved closer to the sorting hat. It was rather obvious that he would be joining them, their faith proven by the empty space they had left for him, yet they could not help but be curious if he would pull off another spectacle.

The aged woman who had been calling names fell silent for a brief moment, eyeing her list before turning to him in fierce scrutiny. It was almost as if she was checking for something to prove he was as the list named him. She cleared her throat, silencing the murmuring of the hall.

"Potter, Harry."

Gasp echoed through the room as all eyes turned to him, wide and curious. Each of them searched for the mythical scar those idiotic books about him claimed to exist. A loud bought of murmuring started before quickly turning defining, all talking about the famous _boy-who-lived._ Some pointed, others stared with unmoving eyes, and a few studied him like a question without an answer.

Yet they all expected him to be a hero, the one to vanquish the Dark Lord and all other evils that might plague them. They saw him as a focus point for the light and all the good it could do. How wrong they were. Still, fame had its uses and if the outside world expected no evil from him then that just allowed him to move about all the easier.

He clambered atop the stool, fixing the woman with his cold eyes as she began to lower the hat. "Hadrian." He muttered simply yet finally.

"What?"

"My name is not _Harry,_ to you, it is Hadrian, Hadrian James Potter, heir to the houses Potter and Black." The woman looked affronted and in more than a bit of disbelief at his sneer. As Harry pulled the hat down onto his head, ready to move on with his day, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

The hat sunk down onto his head, stopping just below his eyes. Stitches dotted the insides, signs of old, haphazard attempts at repairing the artifact. The smell of mothballs, a thousand types of shampoo, and old leather permeated the air within. After a moment he could feel small tendrils dance across his stalwart mental shielding.

 _'Oh, It has been a long time since a Potter of your ilk has graced these isles.'_ The old, tired voice of the hat muttered deeply within his mind. For a moment it was silent, simply humming within his mind. _'Your family has never had the normal path of others, and even if they had I doubt they would choose to walk it.'_

"And what would you know of my family, hat?" He muttered stoically. More than likely he could have spoken to the magical hat within his mind, but he thought it best to speak aloud and show those around him he was speaking to the hat rather than being sorted as they had. He wanted them to know he was so much more than they.

 _'Only what past members have allowed me to see.'_ The hat answered simply. _'An ancient curse haunts your blood, resurfacing once in a blue moon. A curse that has been hidden with your latest denomination.'_

"Denomination?" He wanted answers, not these games. Whispering picked up around him once more as students leaned in to try and hear what was being said. Apparently they seemingly forgot the hat spoke within the mind of its wearer.

 _'Potter. I know not of all your familial names, though Peverell came before and the Le Fay's of France before that.'_ The hat hummed again, once more in thought. _'Some say your family is older than history itself, joining new clans or changing their names throughout time. The greatest Dark Lords ever to walk this earth have shared your blood. Perhaps their is another among them...?'_

Harry resisted the urge to look back toward Dumbledore, the man that would be quick to snuff out another threat to his reign. The hat chuckled atop him, sensing his thoughts despite the shields keeping him out.

 _'Worry not, I am unable to share what I learn from those with which I speak.'_ The hat assured him, then changed the subject. _'Now, as I am already positive to where I would like to place you, I will leave you on this note. Every family has a secret, and a place to lock them away.'_

"SLYTHERIN!" The hat screamed. As it was pulled away it whispered one last thing, _'I dare say master Salazar would have loved you.'_

The students and faculty were stunned. Most gawked, unable to believe their hero was destined for the den of snakes. Two obnoxious red-headed children at the Gryffindor table were crying loudly and the Slytherins clapped in unison, showing house unity to those around them. As false as that unity may be at the moment that is. Daphne and Draco looked ecstatic, along with a few of the other younger snakes.

Harry however paid them no mind. He had known his family was old, it was the reason he studied so much pureblood tradition and the traditional noble etiquette, hell he had even taught himself ballroom dancing. Yet now he was perplexed for the first time in a long time. How old was his family? More over, had more of them been as darkly inclined as him, leading to so many Dark Lords?

The curse was no bother. He was more than positive he knew what it was and that it posed him no threat, nor a threat to any possible future generations of his family. But what other secret could be hidden form him? Was it something that had allowed such powerful Dark Lords, or simply a riddle the hat had spun for him?

As he lowered himself into his seat he started up simple conversation with his two new friends, though his mind never left the implications of what he had learned. Nor did it stop planning out a way to make him the next of the Greatest Dark Lords in history.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"English/Galactic Basic"

 _"Other Language"_

 _'Thought'_

 **~)** )0( **(~**

It was a rather long march from the Great Hall down into the dungeons, where he had been informed was the location of the Slytherin dormitories. This made some small amount of sense seeing as their Head was traditionally the Potions master and the lab for said class was located near by. Unfortunately it also seemed that as they moved farther into the deep halls the air became colder and the stones became somewhat damp, it would seem as though they were now below the black lake.

The brood was silent, members new and old making their way toward their rooms in almost perfect silence, the small few choosing to speak in hushed whispers as they followed their heads. Harry, as he so told by Daphne, was the cause of this silence. Most members of the house of snakes were rather stout traditionalist, following closely in the footsteps of their elders. As such many of them had followed the Dark Lord and just as many blamed Harry for his death.

In the last brief moments before they reached the entrance to their dorms Daphne and Draco had been quick to assure him that they would stand by his side despite their parents standings. Though the former of the two's family was always _neutral_ as far as the world was concerned.

"This is the entrance to the dorms." Vinson Tarly, a boy with short brown hair and cold eyes of the same color, pointed toward the snake statue that stood in a small alcove in the wall. Without the knowledge of what lie behind most would simply think it another of the castle's many statues. "The current password is Salazar, remember it because I will _not_ be repeating it for any of you." His eyes turned to Harry and narrowed slightly.

Vinson turned to the serpent, quietly uttering the password. Emerald light shone to life from the eyes of the statue, seemingly watching over all of them is silent judgment. As they were led inside Harry, Draco, and Daphne were given their first look at the place that was to become their homes for the next seven or so years.

The common room was large, filled with enough furniture and open space for the many Slytherins and then some. On either side of the room stood a door, one with an Occamy and the other decorated with the crowned snake form of a Basilisk. Banners of their house hung from the walls and a few candles aimlessly drifted through the air. Four fireplaces lined the circular walls, each with a circle of couches, loveseats, and chairs arrayed in a circle before them.

At the very end of the room, directly in front of the door, was an enormous window. A window through which you could make out the vast underwater landscapes of the Black Lake. Another set of couches done in an emerald colored leather sat in a semi-circle before it, this time facing outward, toward the door and overlooking the remainder of the room.

In the center of them was a single chair magically formed out an ebony wood and fixed with a silver upholstery. In the glass of the window behind it was carved a large crest, that of the long extinct House Slytherin. This chair was that of a leader, whoever currently resided as the Lord of the Slytherin classes. Even without asking Harry could tell Vinson thought himself the only one capable of holding this throne.

As the students moved inside they formed up along the back wall as they had been instructed. Harry smirked as they others lined up as ordered, daring raging behind his amber eyes. Instead of standing as the others had he instead chose to seat himself in the throne, happily noting that Draco and Daphne took to his sides without the slightest bit of hesitation. He watched curiously as the perfects entered last, neither noticing him as they never would expect a first year to make such a bold move.

"Professor Snape has been called away to the Headmasters office, as such he has asked us to give his introduction speech in his place." Jess Landsteiner, Vinson's seventh year perfect counterpart spoke up for the first time since they had arrived. Her snobby voice matched the uptight appearance of the girl, Harry wanted to slap that superiority out of her.

"Listen closely first years, otherwise you will find yourselves sleeping outside the dorms!" Vinson stepped forward, head held high as he lorded over the assembled students. "Any and all disputes are to be settled within this very room. Slytherin is a house of unity. Others may fight and argue outside their dorms, but we are each parts of a whole. We are always-" The perfect froze, cold eyes freezing on Harry and widening dramatically before narrowing dangerously.

" _Potter..._ " he growled, "What do you think you are doing you filthy _half-blood!?_ "

Harry remained seated, relaxing back into his chair with one leg crossed over the other, elbow on the armrest, and chin resting on the hand of said arm. "Remaining in my seat, Vinson." He challenged back, the mirth he was feeling was obviously displayed on his features but his golden orbs also shown with a hidden malace, daring the older boy to make a move.

Daphne and Draco stiffened on either side of him but stood firm.

The perfect flinched involuntarily but chose to remain firm in front of all the other students. Drawing his wand he lowered himself into a haphazard dueling stance. Potter would not need a real dueler's stance to be but in his place. His solid black wand carefully trained itself right between the eyes of the little upstart, ready to send an overly powered stunner at a moments notice.

"Too scared to draw your wand, Potter?" He taunted, a dark smile plastered across his face, though his eyes alluded to the deep rooted fear he now felt for the young Potter heir. "Mommy and Daddy won't be around to save you this time." The smile on his face broadened as Potter stood, body straight and arms crossed behind his back.

Harry chuckled lowly, his eyes a tempest of wild, unyielding rage. "You're right, I will not draw my wand." He craned his neck to the side, drawing a few small pops as his smile darkened. Vinson's smile turned to a smirk as he though his victory assured. "Only because I do not need one to break you..."

Rage flashed behind the perfect's eyes, "You little shit!"

Crimson light raced across the room toward Harry in the form of a stunning spell. Suddenly Harry's right hand raced forward and then suddenly he backhanded the spell and, doing the impossible, sent it crashing against one of the walls. Gasp echoed through the room as all eyes turned to the scorched wall, then back to the boy that had wandlessly deflected a spell.

Half from fear and half from anger Vinson tried to cast another spell. With a sigh Harry flicked his wrist, sending the older boy crashing into a sofa, causing it to overturn. "Your type are so tiresome, always expecting to beat down anyone smaller than you." The young boy spoke in a suddenly bored tone as he stalked toward the downed boy who was groaning on the floor.

Jess stepped between Harry and her downed compatriot. Nervously the thin girl raised her wand, eyes looking to every part of his face other than his dangerously powerful eyes. Shakily she centered her wand on his chest, hoping to be capable of what Vinson was not. Calmly Harry extended the same hand, a ball of cyan ball of flame springing to life within his palm.

Grey eyes watched the magical flames before turning to the incrementally bored face of Harry Potter. In an instant she dropped her wand, stepped to the side, and fell to her knees. She, a seventh year perfect, had been absolutely terrified of a first years. What exactly _was_ this kid?

The flames dissipated as Harry now stood over Vinson, the older boy whimpering as a shadow now overtook him. For the second time that day lightning jumped from the fingertips of Harry Potter and as his face was illuminated by the light and screams echoed through the room, a smirk formed on his lips.

"I believe it's time for a few small rule changes..."

Daphne Greengrass smirked, her eyes glimmering with a dark light as she looked upon the last of the Potters. Softly biting her lip a single thought raced through her mind, the same thought racing through everyone's minds.

 _'All hail the Silver King of Slytherin, darkness incarnate'_

 **~)** )0( **(~**

Compared to the morning before the Great Hall was more subdued, quiet. In fact these walls had not known this much silence outside of announcements for over sixty years. Perhaps it was the twisted feeling of dread that had prevailed throughout entire castle, maybe it was the sulking of the normally raucous Gryffindors after not getting the Potter heir, or perhaps it was the empty table in the room.

The Hufflepuffs quietly chattered away, happily discussing the work to come and their new friendships as they had done since their founding. At their table draped in cobalt the Ravens had their noses stuck in books or were preparing for their upcoming classes in some way. The Gryffindors were uncharacteristically quiet, the two redheaded pranksters that normally kept the table alive were quietly sulking to themselves.

Yet the emerald and silver table of Snakes lie empty. For the first time in a _long_ time one of the four tables had not a single student seated upon it. An uneasy feeling stalked the students that directed their gazes to the empty seats and motionless cutlery.

At the head table Filius Flitwick looked more worried than most as he looked over the table. A small frown formed on his lips as he turned to the compatriot on his right. "Is your students not going to join us this morning Severus? I hope there wasn't trouble during your speech last night." It would not be the first time his fellow head had kept students from breakfast, however it was a first for a whole class.

"No..." Snape muttered curiously as he too looked over where his students should be, "I had my seventh year perfects give the speech." He turned to look at the half-dwarf seated upon a stack of books, silently swirling the liquid in his goblet in thought. "Though I would not put it past either of them to pull this stunt."

"Would you like I check up on them?" Flitwick asked, his worry for the younger students growing more and more every passing moment. _'Far be it from my crook nosed compatriot's job to look after his own students.'_ The charms master thought with an eye roll.

"No I'll-" Snape began to stand only to be silenced by a new sound.

Through the veil of silence that permeated the hall came the thunderous sound of hundreds of simultaneous footfalls. Louder and louder it became as it drew closer, an ancient legion of Rome steadily making its way toward them. All eyes turned toward the grand doors of oak at the end of the hall, watching and waiting for what was to come. At the head table the professors gripped their wands tightly, ready to defend their students from whatever stalked closer.

A loud thud followed as the doors swung upon and slammed against the walls, the shuttering of the wood causing some to flinch at the sudden noise and movement.

 _Thum Thum Thum Thum Thum_

In perfectly synchronized movements the house of Slytherin marched into the room positioned in four neat columns. They moved without a single misstep, heads held high and eyes locked forward, not a word spoken between them. At their head marched Harry Potter, situated just between the two central columns which were headed by Draco Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass.

Slowly they fanned out around the table, Harry at the seat-less end near the door and facing the head table, with Daphne standing before the closest seat on the left and Draco on the right. With eyes like a hawk the young Potter scoured his house for any imperfections and, upon seeing none, gave a satisfied nod. Then he lowered himself down as if to sit, waving his hand just before he reached sitting level. From thin air appeared a high-backed ebony colored chair with crimson upholstery, saving him from his decent.

Again, in unison, his housemates seated themselves, though only after he himself had done so. As if nothing had happened they began to converse among one another, eating, laughing, and talking.

"By God...that boy has raised an army..." Minerva McGonagall stared wide eyed and mouth agape as the son of her two favorite students and beloved friends led her rival house as if he had been doing so for years. "What on earth happened last night?" She turned over to Severus whose own eyes were wide, his normally stoic mask broken.

"I-I don't know, I wasn't there!" He cleared his throat, covering his stutter. "I was meeting with Albus to discuss you-know-what. I head Vinson was in the medical wing with severe electrical burns and more than Poppy's treatable amount of nerve damage, but Landsteiner had told me it was an accident with a first year..." At his last words Snape looked to Potter who quietly talked with his friends, realizing what first year had cause said accident.

Minerva's own eyes darted to the ebony haired boy. "Do you think it was Harry?" She sounded afraid and, honestly, she was. The last student to command so much power in the den of snakes had become something unholy. To see the son of someone she cared so deeply for stare down the same path with the snakes under his thumb? She shivered at the thought.

"Did you see him conjure that chair!?" Filius interrupted them as he clapped his hands excitedly. Their conversation had gone right over his head, bother figuratively and literally, as he had instead chosen to study every inch of the ornate chair now at the end of the Slytherin table.

"He doesn't even know the _spell_ yet and he did it without wand or word. Another master of the art if I have ever seen one. What do you think Albus?" The little man chirped happily, only to grow worried as he looked upon his friend. "Albus?"

Albus Dumbledore sat with his forehead resting against him palm, his face screwed shut and his jaw clinched tightly. His half-moon spectacles had fallen to the brim of his nose and his other hand tightly clutched the hem of his starry robes. "That boy..." he mumbled in a breathlessly pained voice. All eyes of the head table turned to Harry Potter who's own unnaturally golden eyes glittered back. He raised his goblet to them with a smirk before continuing conversation with his friends.

He was _taunting_ them. Taunting Witches and Wizards decades his senior.

From the moment he had led the entire house of Slytherin into the Great Hall he had felt all eyes on him. Silence reigned the most proper of the houses had marched into the room, stoic and proud like the Prussian Guard of old. Yet not one could look to anyone but the newly recognized first year monarch that moved ahead of them. Fortunately for Harry that had been exactly what he had planned.

Of course he could have let his house funnel into the Hall along with the other houses as they always have, or simply let them walk like normal children. But he wanted to show to those around that Slytherin house was unified and noble, and to those at the head table that _he_ was who unified them. He reveled in the fear it caused.

Even marching down the hall he had feel the cold shift in the air, the terror of students young and old tainting the very magic around it. Students afraid of whatever unknown thing was making its way toward them, and professors fearing if they would be able to stop the same unknown or not. This is what he wanted the other houses to fear their betters, and those at the head table to fear what he was capable of.

Harry had walked in, head held high regally, dressed in a midnight black tunic with silver fastenings, a black silk undershirt, silk breaches, and his Nundu hide boots. He was above all the students within this school and would make sure they all knew that. After inspecting his house he lowered himself into the empty air behind him, summoning an ebony chair from nothing, and smirked at the awed faces around him.

He lifted his goblet slightly as he looked once more over his house, his look souring as he realized the cup was filled with something as disgusting as pumpkin juice. Banishing the liquid with a small wave he whispered near it, then smiled once more as it was filled with a crimson liquid.

"Harry, love...what is that?" Daphne batted her eyelashes innocently, but a dangerous fire burned in the eyes behind them. The night before, when he had once more tried to enjoy a glass of wine, she had been adamant that he was too young for the alcoholic drink. Not it would seem she was suspicious of the similarly colored liquid in his glass.

An innocent smile overcame the young boy, "Daphne, dear, it's grape juice of course!" While not technically the truth, it was not entirely a lie either. She narrowed her eyes slightly, but nodded slowly in acceptance.

"When's the wedding?" Draco muttered, watching the two of them from the corner of his eyes, half amused. Daphne's cheeks darkened but neither said a word, choosing to instead ignore the blond headed idiot.

Slowly Harry tuned out the words of his friends, instead bringing his eyes to roam over the head table. More specifically, the varying reactions of the professors behind it. The stunned surprise of Severus, wondrous amazement of Flitwick, horror of McGonagall, and twinkling eyes of Albus Dumbledore. The moment Harry met those sparkling pale blue eyes he felt the mistake that had been made, though it was not his.

It was but a feather light touch, a fleeting breeze across the steel walls of his mental shield. He allowed it to continue, pretending not to notice. Only when it reached the strongest point did he react, slapping back the probe with ten times the force. Dumbledore looked as if he had been genuinely punched dead in the face. When the other professors looked to him, Harry simply raised his cup with a smirk.

How he loved toying with his prey.

"Harry?" Daphne had noticed his exchange, seemingly curious as to why the headmaster looked ill all of a sudden.

The ebony haired teen took a sip from his goblet. "Albus seems to think it a good idea to enter minds into which he is not welcome." He started on the meal before him, ignoring the surprised and enraged looks of those close enough to hear his words, his own anger subsiding due to the pain he had dealt the headmaster.

"How dare he!" Daphne raged, both her and Draco stealing glances at the man who still shook in pain. Harry was both confused and oddly delighted when she slid her hand into his under the table. "Preforming legilimency on a mindor is illegal!" She shot a glare at Dumbledore who was now beginning to recover, only to flinch when he looked their way and saw the fire in the girl's violet orbs.

silent for a moment, his grey eyes hard and thoughtful. After a tense second he reached into his bag, pulling out a roll of parchment and a self-inking quill. When Harry noticed the letter addressed to the father of the Malfoy heir, who according to Draco was on the school's board of governors, he stopped his friends who gave him a curious look in return.

"Let this go Draco...Dumbledore wants me to play his game, but he will be sad to note it is _my_ game he finds himself playing. For now he will hold the cards, though only though my good graces will he do so."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"English/Galactic Basic"

 _"Other Language"_

 _'Thought'_

 **~)** )0( **(~**

Harry's eyes remained hard locked as he furiously stormed to the potions lab, his two companions struggling to keep pace. Not even the bold and self-righteous Gryffindors—so adamant in their defiance of him—dared to stand in his path, the swirling, rage filled depths of his eyes scaring even the ghost that hovered before him. His feet, despite the heavy dragon-hide and quick footfalls made not a sound, even with the weight and speed behind them. The magically shrunken form of his bag was held tightly in his fist, pressing tightly into his black and gold tunic.

Charms had been an easy class, the simple spells coming to him quickly and being as simple as the occasional flick of his wrist. Flitwick had been as a doting mother as he inspected Harry's every movement and happily took note of both his skill and prowess. The little professor had called on Harry more than any other, much to the annoyance of the Ravenclaws, and had even gone as far as to award him twice the points any other student received.

It seems the minuscule man was absolutely delighted to have yet another prodigy in his class and even more excited that he was the son of his last favorite student. At one point Flitwick had even thrown away the current lesson and demanded Harry summon another chair to match the one in the Great Hall. It should be said that he went through the trouble of making the chair a bronze color with deep blue cushions, slightly smaller, and taller as a means of getting in well with the little man.

He had walked away from charms with a smile on his face, happily conversing with two friends as they made their way through the halls. It was not until they reached Defense Against the Dark Arts that his mood had soured.

Quirinus Quirrell, the resident defense _professor_ —if the man deserved such a title—was a complete and utter fool. From the moment he had crossed the threshold his magic had sensed the sheer oddness of the man, something powerful and dark radiating off the stuttering buffoon. Half of their lesson had been spent trying to understand the man, the other half trying to follow in his poorly explained instructions. Of course the Slytherins had taken to the struggle with ease compared to their Gryffindor companions.

Only when the class had ended did Harry understand what he had been feeling from the man, that alone had been enough to sour his mood considerably.

Harry stopped, taking a long moment to calm himself before pushing his way into the Potions classroom, choosing a seat near the center. Noticing there was only two seats per table Draco quickly moved to the one by his side, only to have a very quick meeting with the floor as Daphne forced him suddenly from the stool. She moved elegantly into the seat and stuck her tongue out at the downed blond.

"Harry?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Sorry, mate." Harry said with a playful smirk, eyes darting between the two, "Seems she wanted just a _bit_ more..."

With a frown Draco took a seat at the table behind his friends, shooting them pleading looks as Pansy seated herself at his side and began to not only flirt with him, but ask questions about Harry as well. He huffed as Pansy continued asking countless questions about his friend and their leader; it seems Harry got all the girls. He noticed Daphne shamelessly flirting with the amber eyed teen, _all_ the girls.

 **~)** )0( **(~**

"...and I heard there was something up there. Ron dragged Neville with him and they found a locked door with something growling on the other side!"

"That's not what _I_ heard. Dean said the headmaster was holding secret meeting inside."

Draco ignored the smug look on the other boy's face, as if he had won some form of secret argument. His eyes remained locked forward, attempting to dissemble the idea that he would be listening to the unmasked conversation. His breathing stilled as he waited, his ears perking up every now and then as he hoped to get more information for his Lord. Though he doubted either of the two rumors he was sure that Harry would appreciate the information, leading him one step closer to unveiling the secrets of the Headmaster and the castle. Only when he was sure there was no more information to be heard did he allow his mind to drift.

Calling Harry Potter his Lord, now there was one thing that he never expected, those words would probably send his father to the grave. House Malfoy had always leaned toward the _darker_ side of the magical world. From an early age the ways of a proper pureblood elite were instilled into his mind; the Noble houses, their heraldry, words, magical traits, and every other bit of useful information safely tucked away behind his occlemency barriers.

 _"Befriend him, earn his trust...our Lord will appreciate a man on the inside."_

The words of his father rung in his head. That had been what it was the first time he had met the young heir of house Potter. He had to admit, he had liked Harry right away, but he refused to allow that to stand in his way. Then he had seen the power of Harry Potter, a supposed _light_ child. He had watched the boy viciously strike those down those who angered and stood before him, striking out with a power unlike anything even aged wizards could produce. That night, now three months prior to this exact day, he had decided he would serve his Lord to the best of his ability.

His Lord, Harrison James Potter, heir to House Potter and the Silver King of Slytherin.

 **~)** )0( **(~**

 _Click_

The silent, wandless _alohomora_ did its job, unlocking the metal embraced wooden door. He had looked over every inch of the third floor corridor, with perfect vision and extended magic he had left not leaf unturned. Not even the castle wards had stood out on this floor, there was -as far as he could tell- nothing special about this area of the castle. Well, aside from the unusually high amounts of dust flittering to and fro. He moved his way into the room, his footfalls as silent as ever.

He froze.

There was a beast sleeping on the other side of the room, larger than absolutely any other he had ever seen in his young life. Matted hair covered in filth ran the length of the beast, upon large paws with claws the size of short-swords sat one of _three_ equally large heads. A Cerberus, the beast of legend said to guard the very gates of the underworld, the attack dog of Hades. Two things hit him at once, the first were the wards around the room, extremely powerful containment wards to keep the beast caged. The second was the smell, rotted flesh, coming from chunks of meat stuck between the teeth of the beast.

He briefly toyed with the idea of striking the creature. Perhaps lashing out with his elemental magics or even going as far as to cast the killing curse in an attempt to end the Cerberus and move farther into the castle's bowls. The words of the dark curse rolled around in his mouth as he tested them, readying their use so he might move forward. The loud chime of a bell sounded out in the hall, alerting the students that it was time to move on to breakfast.

He growled, then froze. His growl had come out loud...louder than was possible unless he was to amplify his voice magically. He turned, meeting three sets of enormous amber eyes, nearly as bright as his own. He frowned at the beast, neither afraid nor intimidated by the Cerberus now eyeing him as if he was its next meal. He would _not_ go so far just to be eaten. His magic pulsated out from him, casting dark waves around him and the room. The ever present tempest of power swirling in his eyes sped up and his robes billowed around him. He would show this beast who was truly the dominate one of the room's occupants.

"Mutt..." He sneered at the beast as it began to cower as far back as it could. He turned, robes billowing behind him as he did, and slammed the door shut behind him as he made his way toward the great hall.

Breakfast was uneventful as always, half empty and only filled with those not looking for an extra hour of rest. Even the head table stood mostly empty, something that was quite common as the professors seemed to take the time to prepare for classes or to attend to more personal matters. The stuttering fool with the black magic parasite was there, the seats either side of him empty as he sneaked curious glances hiding veiled malice towards Harry. There was something off about the man, other than the _thing_ Harry had sensed attached to him on their first day of lessons.

It was as if the man knew him, as if he had personally despised him for some reason. Not that Harry cared for the man anyway, Quirrell was nothing more than a weak, sniveling little fool too cowardly to even talk to first years with a straight face. Still though, neither that nor the parasite explained his hate, unless...

A sputtering sound tore his thoughts to the now. It seems Daphne had taken a sip from his goblet and had been less than pleased with what she had found.

"Harry James Potter!"

Bright amber met vibrant violet, he watched with a small amount of horror as the beautiful girl he considered his best friend slowly advanced on him.

 _'Gods help me'_

 **~)** )0( **(~**

Violet eyes watched as the amber eyed boy she had come to befriend walked into the room, shooting her a small smile which she returned. The small smile shifted into a triumphant smirk as he took as seat beside her. Not because he was a good potions partner, though how he managed to brew perfect potions every time was well beyond her, but because she truly enjoyed his company.

That was the goal of befriending someone after all, she had to admit he was a little more than that. Of course she had decided in their brief, but glorious friendship that she would follow him through hell and back, standing by his side as he conquered the world if he so wished. Harry had quickly grew his own little nook inside her heart, one that had steadily grown like a raging fire that burned hotter than any other.

She would like to say it was a crush, that would make much more sense from their short tenure together, but then she would be lying to herself. Was it love? Not quite now, that would be insane. She did care greatly for him though, one day it may become love, but for now she did not know what to call it. She felt a hand lay on top of hers, turning her attention to her best friend as a light blush began to rise up upon her cheeks.

"You okay Daph? You're spacing out a bit there." The worry he showed for her was rather endearing, not that she would tell the mighty King of Slytherin that to his face.

She offered a smile, fighting back the heat that currently tainted her pale cheeks. "I'm fine, Harry, thank you." She began to turn back to her work but a slight squeeze of his hand, still atop her own, stopped her as she curiously turned back to him, meeting his concerned gaze.

"Promise?"

She had seen a lot of things rise to the face of her Lord and best friend. She had seen the unrelenting tempest of rage when someone treated him as if he was below them. The smug look of pride cross his face when Daphne or Draco, who he took time to personally show a few of his tricks, excelled in the classes. The triumphant smirk when he came out on top, out playing or overpowering those who were dumb enough to challenge him. She had even seen the small hints of love veiled behind the power in his eyes as he looked upon a picture of his long deceased parents.

Never once had she seen what she did at this very moment, true concern for her well being. Something in her heart fluttered and her stomach twisted into knots. Still she managed a smile, one meant to be small but grew to be wide as her mirth shone through.

"Yes, thank you, Harry."

He gave her hand another squeeze and smiled, opening his mouth to say something as the door to the dungeon swung open with a resounding bang. Snape walked through, a scowl across his face and a slight limp in his step. Her eyes hardly caught the edge of a cut on his leg, small streams of blood ran down and pooled around his ankle, coloring his white socks a deep crimson.

"Did you see that?" Harry's voice drew her attention. His eyes remained on their bubbling potion, he never missed a step as he reached for a small pile of doxy eggs.

"His leg?"

Harry's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Something is _not_ right in this castle, and I intend to find out what..."

"Do you want me to ask around about it?" She followed his lead, carrying out conversation as she lowered powdered dragonfly wings into the draught. He shook his head softly in response.

"No, it would draw to much attention. I will do some see what I can learn over the break."

Her heart sombered slightly as she though of him being practically alone over the break.

 **~)** )0( **(~**

The air was bitter and cold, biting through the warmth of his cloak like the icy teeth of an ice troll. Snow fell heavily from the sky, drifting down in clumps as large as cotton balls and piling high on the ground. From the trees and ramparts of the castle hung icicles of varying sizes. His black clothing and hair clashed greatly with the snow covered hills around him, his pale skin the only thing that seemed to blend with his surroundings. Ahead was his target, a small, round hut in a slight state of disrepair. His eyes glanced around, checking for a tail as he trudged on to the house.

His fist rose into the air and rapped three times against the hard wooden door. He could hear the sound of moving clutter and the creak of floorboards holding their limit as they threatened to cave in. The giant of a man opened his door, a look of surprise and a spark of happiness crossing his rough features. Hagrid smiled, showing his crooked teeth as he waved Harry into his home.

"Well come on in then! You'll catch a cold if yer out too long."

There was a slight joviality to the man's voice that never seemed to leave. As if he was always happy to talk, always happy to help, even the dark heart of Harry Potter could not help but feel the slight tinge of happiness the man seemed to instill in those around him. After the door was shut Hagrid moved to the table, the floorboards still creaking in protest, and pulled out an overly large chair for Harry to sit in.

"I got's to say, I thought you didn' like me very much, Harry." There it was, the slight tinge of sadness at not being accepted, a feeling the man had rooted in his very core, a place very few could touch. It just so happened the _he_ could, there was very little that one could hide from the Potter heir.

"Of course not." It was not a lie, that would require him to hate the giant or at the very least dislike him. He honestly did not know the groundskeeper of the school very well. They had spoken a few times, mostly short conversations about nothing at all, but there was not enough there for him to judge the character of the half-man.

"Oh..." There was still the sadness there, the fear of rejection, behind which there now seemed to be a low burning flame of happiness. "Well, what do you need then, Harry?"

Harry in surprise. A quick change in mood was common in the circles he ran, he himself capable of doing so with a simple change in interest. Hagrid on the other hand was far from one he would expect such a thing from. Maybe this information would be harder to pry from the loyal giant of Dumbledore than he had originally thought.

"Tell me Hagrid," He locked his hands together and placed them on the table, his eyes locking on the man to gauge his reaction. "What do you know about the philosopher's stone hidden below the school?"

There it was, the slight widening of his eyes, the freeze in his movements, even the quick, though silent, intake of breath. All signs that his assumption had been correct. It was more or less a bold faced lie, he knew nothing of what was truly below the school, hidden away and guarded by a Cerberus and more than likely some other forms of protection. It was a simple assumption really. Dumbledore was a well known associate of the Most Ancient and Noble house of Flamel, however it was hardly known that the heads of said house had went silent not so long ago, just before his Hogwarts year had started.

Piecing those two slivers of information, one of which was simple idle gossip among the nobles, was a leap from distinguishing fact from fiction. That had been the reason he had come here, should the half-giant know about what was below the castle and Harry's assumption be correct, well that likened the odds that the groundskeeper would spill the proverbial beans.

"I...I don't know what yer talkin about." His words came out slow and steady, as if he was trying to fool himself just as much as he was the boy seated behind him. From his clay oven he pulled a pan of biscuits, well what Harry assumed were biscuits as the looked to be large clumps of brown stone. The man took one and bit into it, the resulting crunch sounded like teeth breaking.

He refused to look at the amber eyed boy as he made his way over to the door. "I have my duties to attend, you'll have to head back to the castle now..."

Harry left with a stoic face, one that quickly changed to a smirk as he made his way back through the snow toward the castle. Knowing there was a stone that granted not only immortality, but infinite wealth as well just below the castle was a major advantage. It seemed he had letters to send and a few books about bypassing a Cerberus to read. He idly played with a small ball of cyan flame, rolling it around in his palm as he made his way to his dorms, oh how he loved when things fell into place.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"English/Galactic Basic"

 _"Other Language"_

 _'Thought'_

 **~)** )0( **(~**

It had all been worked out; his alibi, the magical mandolin he had enchanted to lull the beast to sleep, even the route he would take to the third floor corridor. As soon as he had dropped his tail, a disillusioned old man who had followed him quite often after his refusal to leave the castle, he had started up the grand staircase and made his way deeper into the ancient fortress. He quite enjoyed the walk as the deeper into the school one went, the more history and unnoticed things they would find. Statues of long dead wizards and witches, commemorated for accomplishments and follies alike.

Ancient potions masters, founders of useful spells, leading members of the alchemy world, and even one peculiar wizard who had made it his mission to instruct Trolls on dancing. That particular tapestry was located much farther into the castle, it seemed Barnabas the Barmy was no longer as popular as it must have once been. He passed row after row of doors, most classrooms telling stories of a once populous building brimming with magical children eager to learn the ways of the arcane arts.

The magical world, it seems, was nearing the end of its death throes. As rules and guidelines grew, along with bigotry and the hate of muggleborns, the numbers of those who could harness the powers of magic grew smaller and smaller with each passing year. Muggleborns entered their world full of wonder, each gleaning to learn all they could about their mystical powers. Then they would meet the purebloods and the Ministry, finding almost no place for their kind in the world they now lived in, after this they would flee back to the mundane world and live their lives without the powers they had learned of.

Of course some did not take to well to such a thing. Those who would return to the muggle world and use their powers, even away from the prying eyes of muggles, were dragged before the wizengamot on trumped up charges then cast into the black keep, Azkaban. He would change that, magic would flourish and prosper, one day reaching out over the entire globe and encompassing even the muggle world under his rule. It was a long way off and made very difficult by the many factors that would stand in his way, but with the philosophers stone in hand he would be taking great leaps in the pursuit of his goals.

When he finally reached his destination he stopped. There was a ward line, now placed just before the door. If he had to guess he would say it was to alert Dumbledore of anyone that tried to gain entry to the room, guessing was below him however for he know exactly what the ward was. With a growl he turned and made his way back to his dorms, it seemed he would have to wait for another day when the headmaster was much more distracted to enter the room and retrieve his prize.

The bell rung, signalling the welcome feast and the return of the students who had left the castle for the holidays. At least he could discuss his findings with his circle, not that it would add any information to that which he had already found.

He sighed, swirling the crimson liquid in his goblet as he looked out over his pseudo kingdom. His house mates talked amongst themselves, speaking of their holidays and presents. Some had sent him small things over the holidays, many looking to secure a place in his circle, others simply wishing to stay in his good graces. Draco, Blaise Zabini, and Tracey Davis, most of the small circle he had formed around himself and consolidated his power among were quietly discussing the chamber which held the Cerberus and his suspicions of what the treasure it guarded may have been.

"We could always just sneak in tonight and put it asleep..." Tracey suggested, the brown haired girl had her face buried in a book as usual, her light blue eyes scanning the pages for new information. She was the bookworm of their group, always reading and always happy to share her findings with Harry and those of the circle. This was the reason she was one of them, her thirst for knowledge was matched only buy the bushy haired mudblood who sat at the table of Lions.

Blaise shook his head. "If Harry is right, and you know he is, the ward would be impossible to sneak pass." Blaise was their diplomat, quick thinking and level headed. He was the one who Harry sent out to discuss political matters in their house and with the others. He was far from the most powerful in their house, but his loyalty to Harry was matched only by that of Draco and Daphne. Someone with that level of trust could always be useful.

"I say Harry should just tear it down." The blonde of their group said through a mouthful of food, his words almost impossible to make out. Blaise was quick to smack him upside the head and chastise him for being such a slob, drawing laughs from the group.

Before another word could be said there was a soft fluttering of wings as a few letter were deposited among the crowd of students. Owls of all shapes and sizes carried the letters, each as different as the birds that carried them. Amber eyes focused on one small bird that seemed to have trouble flying, it its talons were a small red envelope. Blaise seemed to catch this as well and he smirked.

"Looks like the Weasel got a howler..."

Sure enough the little bird dropped the letter just before the red-head, the boy seemed to know exactly what he had received as he paled almost as white as Harry as the small red creased began to fold into the shape of a mouth.

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!"

"What kind of name is Bilius?"

"Quiet Draco!" Harry hissed, he was rather excited to see the fear in the boy's eyes as the voice of who he assumed was his mother yelled at him.

"HOW COULD YOU FAIL POITONS? YOUR OWN MOTHER WAS A POTIONS MISTRESS BEFORE SETTLING WITH YOUR FATHER!"

"Is that what you call giving someone love potion?"

"Draco!" The soft scolding of Tracey and Harry's cold look shut him up.

"WHEN YOU GET HOME YOUNG MAN YOU ARE GROUNDED!"

"Well, at least we know the idiocy is not hereditary." Blaise chuckled.

"How come he doesn't get in trouble?"

"Draco!" They all yelled at once.

 **~)** )0( **(~**

The great hall was rather silent this day, it seemed those that had come to dinner that night were far from talkative as the usually were. The Slytherin table was the quietest of the groups, all following the lead of their King and only whispering in hushed tones with their close friends. At the moment Harry found himself rather worried with the lack of Daphne's presence. Never once had she missed a meal and it was very rare for her to not be found by his side, he had grew so accustom to her that the empty chair that she once sat in left him feeling almost as empty as it was.

He looked around his circle, eyeing those he would not see for the summer when the school year ended in two days. As powerful as he was, as dark hearted and untrusting as he could be, these few people had somehow grown closer to him then even he thought he could allow someone. Friends, a word he could now use without hesitation. Never in his life had he thought he would use the word fondly, it seems he was not always right.

The door burst open suddenly, the heavy footsteps of Quirrell resounded throughout the hall and the students fell silent upon his entry. When the turban wearing professor stopped he was in the center of the hall, his eyes wide with fright. His mouth opened, a small groan the first thing that came through, as if speaking pained him.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeons! Thought you should know..."

Two things happened at that moment, the first was the collapse of Quirrell, oddly light as he hit the ground. The next was pandemonium, screams echoed throughout the hall. Students from every house, minus those of Slytherin who remained seated with their Lord, stood and ran around in panic. Dumbledore was quick to usher the students to their dorms, though he either forgot, or more likely did not care that the Slytherin dorms were located _in_ the dungeons.

"Stay here." Harry hissed to those still seated before turning to the ones closest to him. "With me..."

The three nodded, quickly falling into line behind him. Their footsteps were light, nearly silent even in the large, empty stone halls of Hogwarts. Each of them moved to keep pace with their leader whose own elegant and swift movements gave them a hard time. Harry stopped, his friends following his movements and looking to his stoic face in confusion. Then they felt it, a light wave of his magic as he extended his senses to their limits, searching for something yet unknown to them. It took only moments before the power of their lord returned to him, washing over them all once more.

Whatever he had found, it was obvious he was not happy. His nostrils flared as his eyes snapped open, from their close proximity each of them stiffened as the air around them turned cold. It was not often that Harry would grow so angry as to change the air, the very dark energy that pulsated from him chilling the air with its dark taint. To most it was frighting, for one of their age to hold such untapped power, for it to be such a black and unyielding force; to them it was intoxicating. Such amazing power in the hands of the one they serve, they knew well they would be given their own power, and would hold the protection of their master.

"Harry? Where are we going?" Tracey was not one to question him, but they were making their way toward the girls room on this hall, hardly the direction of the stone.

"Nott..." Was all he said, the named growled through gritted teeth. He stopped, turning to them as they reached an intersection. "Blaise, Draco, get my mandolin, Tracey stay with me, I may need you." The two boys nodded, splitting off as the group started to move once more, returning to the dorms for their assigned task.

"Do you smell that?" He murmured to her in question.

She nodded, a foul odor that grew stronger as they grew closer to their destination. The putrid smell of rotten flesh and week old sweat, her eyes started to water as she drew her shirt closer to her nose, trying as best she could to block the smell. Questioning what would give off such a smell was rather stupid at the moment, from the look in his eyes Harry would not tolerate distractions, even from one as close to him as her. He could be kind, but every coin held another side.

Suddenly he jerked to the side, leaving the hall and entering the girls room. What on earth he could want in there she had no idea, but again she knew better than to question him. She followed close behind his billowing cloak and was met with a sight that made her wish she had gone with the boys. Daphne lie on the floor, a bruises on her face and throat, a cut lip and blackened eye, Nott stood over her, wand in hand.

It was not the downed form of her friend that frightened her so, nor was it the fact that even one of them, Harry's circle, could be targeted like this. What scared her was the instant drop in temperature, much colder than before. Ice formed around the feet of her master, slowly spreading away from him like moss growing over stones. Power poured from him and from her position by his side she nearly faltered under the sheer pressure of it. The amber in his eyes shifted, becoming colder and brighter as they began to glow with the might of their owner.

"Wha-" Nott noticed the sudden change, looking up from his victim only to be slammed raised into the air and slammed against the wall in the blink of an eye. The tile cracked behind him, he whimpered, looking down to the one who assailed him. "My Lord! I was simply-" He was cut off again, an odd sound echoing around the room. Nott's hands reached up, clutching at an invisible hand around his throat. His feet kicked uselessly in the air as he tried to free himself, his face slowly grew red from the lack of oxygen.

"M-mercy..." The boy whispered breathlessly, his eyes beginning to roll back into his head.

"Mercy is for the weak." The sound of cracking bone filled the silent room, Nott's head twisted to the side and his body slid to the ground.

Tracey stood, silent and shaking, the realization of what had just happened cutting into her like the rough blade of a dull knife. Harry was ruthless, a trait she had seen him show countless times, but she had never thought anyone would actually die. There was some comfort in the fact that he did so protecting a member of his circle, but she was not Daphne, so the question was would he do the same for her? Her eyes flickered to the dead body, the lifeless eyes starting coldly back at her. Her dinner lurched in her stomach, threatening to expel itself.

Harry followed her eyes, sneering at the fallen form of the traitor. In his mind there was no place for one that would turn on his own, especially when the one they attacked was above them in station. The Nott boy would not be missed, he was glad to be rid of such filth. The constant letters the boy would write to his deatheater father was not lost on Harry, nor how they seemed to grow in frequency when something evolving Slytherin's King seemed to come up. A spy was only useful when they were your own.

"Tracey, tend to Daphne."

"My Lord, what about you?"

"I will tend to our guest." As if on cue the wall holding the entrance crumbled, a large humanoid form stepping through the dust.

The troll moved, bringing its club down to squash the one closest to it, Harry. A raised hand stopped it inches from the boy's head. The troll looked down in confusion, placing another hand on the large club and attempting to push it down. Harry was beginning to struggle, the full force of the beast's attack too much for him to hold alone. He jumped, rolling to the side as the club came down, creating a small crater in the floor from its impact. It swung again, trying to decapitate Harry in a single blow, missing as the boy jumped away once more. Harry crouched, pushing his power into his legs and jumping up into the air, flipping and landing on the troll's shoulders. Lightning lept from his hands, causing the troll to stumble back into the wall, nearly crushing the young first year.

Harry jumped once more, trying to reach the safety of the ground, only to be met with a flailing hand mid air. He flew into one of the remaining stalls, crashing through the door and splintering it. A moan could be heard as he attempted to pick himself up, meeting the sight of the beast advancing on Tracey and Daphne, the former throwing simple curses and hexes in attempt to protect herself and her friend. A large meaty hand reached out to swipe up the girl, but was never able to reach them. A confused look crossed the troll's face once more as he looked to the motionless appendage then to the stall Harry had flown through. The boy walked calmly out, a hard look set on his face and one hand raised.

Tracey and Daphne, who was starting to wake, watched in awe as Harry's skin shimmered. Pale skin faded away, replaced by pure crimson flesh, small horn like appendages forming on his chin and jaw. It was still Harry, so similar but so different, neither knew what to say, what to do. White hot arcs of electricity raced from his other hand as he raised it to the side. The troll stumbled away from them, giving Harry the opportunity to strike out with both hands. Power unlike any other filled the room as both girls could only look on.

As suddenly as it had started it was over, the troll lay lifeless, propped against the floor. Harry turned to them with a smug look on his face, only to be met with the uncertainty showing on both of them. He raised his hands, looking down to them, his eyes widening before he fled as quickly as either of them had ever seen him move.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

 **Worry not dear ones, thy Emperor has returned to his throne.** After a _long_ absence I have returned and once more our kingdom will flourish and grow. This chapter took me a few tries, but I was happy with the end result and hope you all enjoy reading this continuation of our story.

 **Note:** All former chapters have now been updated and revamped, I suggest any old readers give them a short glance.

"English/Galactic Basic"

 _"Other Language"_

 _'Thought'_

 **~)** )0( **(~**

Harry charged blindly through the empty halls of Hogwarts, unholy rage at having been revealed all too soon causing him magic to pulsate dangerously and, for the first time, so to did terror grip him. Ice formed over everything around him, freezing tapestries solid and extinguishing the magical flames along with the light they provided.

He was never one to feel fear, it was a petty emotion for those too weak to control themselves. In fact the fear of others had only ever made him stronger, and had been a weakness he rapidly sought to weed out of his followers. But to see the ones he had allowed himself to care for look at him with such resolute ambivalence, the light touch of fear dancing with an deeply ingrained loyalty.

An animalistic growl rumbled in his throat, anger at having let himself loose control. A single mistake that may cost him more than he dared admit.

For a brief moment he had felt the presence of Draco and Blaise as they returned from their assigned task, he had sidestepped their hall and stormed strait for the third floor corridor. The time for tiptoeing around the old fool and is staff of incompetent half-rates could wait, more important matters had made themselves known and he was too caught in his rage to consider the consequences of the actions to come.

Upon reaching the heavily warded door he simply slammed his palm into its center, imploding it and sending shards flying inward. On the other side the sleeping Cerberus awoke, three angry heads rising to challenge the newest threat to its post. Amber eyes flickered to it briefly, their fury practically _daring_ the beast to so much as growl without permission. It whimpered and removed its paw from the trap door.

As Harry flung open the door with a flick of his wrist he caught sight of a harp that lie silent off to the side, a few powerless runes running down its arch. It would seem his assumption was correct, there was more than one person vying for the stone. Unfortunately for wretch he was not in a forgiving mood, nor was he willing to spare an lives today. Death haunted this castle and he was more than happy to send a few more souls to the deity.

"Devils snare..." He muttered bitterly, hardly making out the wreathing mass of black vines below.

Extending out his right palm a cyan ball of flame roared to life, the magical flame happily licking at the fingers of its master. Simply turning his hand over he let the fire fall into the hole where it struck the killer plant. There was a brief flash of light as the entire mass of vines was incinerated, all that remained was ash. Pooling magic once more, this time into his feet, he jumped down, the built up energy cushioning the impact to nearly nothing at all.

The next area was much less impressive than a man-eating three-headed dog as it was little more than a bridge leading across to another door. An old broom hovered to the side and a swarm of enchanted keys flew high above. Was this just some child's game? Was this seriously all there was to hiding the key to eternal life and infinite riches? The already raging part of him felt insulted.

The door did not have anything more than wards preventing unlocking charms, in fact...

Another wave of his hand and the old iron hinges of the door crumpled, making a flicking motion toward the old door his magic lashed, throwing it inward. Anger faded quickly into annoyance when he was met with yet another simple task. A game of wizard's chess stood before him, albeit a set in which the pieces were larger than a fully grown man.

"How Draco would love such a useless room." Harry remarked lightly, casting an annoyed glare across the football field sized game.

Another door centered the wall on the other side, soundly guarded by the black pieces on the board. When he crossed through the whites and neared the darker pieces two of the pawn drew their swords and crossed them in his path. So they wanted him to _play_ this idiotic game? No, if he wanted to waste precious time then he would have stayed above and waited on his circle to join him.

Magic pulsed outward in a chilling display of power. These golems were immune to the fear inducing corruption of his magic, but they were still little more than magical stone. Harry raised both hands outward, allowing tendrils of his magic to engulf the two before he slammed his hands together, the two pawns following suit. Bits of stone flew in every direction as the chess pieces crumbled from the impact. With a wave of his hand the remaining pieces were thrown to the side.

The next room had little more than a dead Troll and the one after was simply a riddle based around a handful of potions. His exceptional mind game to quick grips with the reality of the trails. Each was placed by one of the main group of teachers, specifically those who taught first years at some point. Dumbledore was toying with him, these were simple puzzles for a first year and easily bypassed by a grown wizard or a man of his strength.

And if not him then who else?

Downing the correct potion he stepped through the wall of ebony flames.

"The stone, how do I get the stone!"

On the other side of the fire was a amphitheater like room, a ring of steps leading down to a flat, circular area in the center of which resided a large mirror. The words at the top of the mirror at first confusing, then steadily coming into frame as they were read backwards. A mirror fixated around showing one what they desired most, a dangerous tool in the wrong hands.

Around the bronze-bound mirror marched Quirrell, the sniveling wretch quietly arguing with himself, or so it seemed, as he paced around the mirror with his wand drawn. Occasionally he would prod at it, the class having no such reaction other than to clink from the contact. Harry could not help but let his annoyance and rage subside slightly at watching the fool struggle.

Clearly this test was designed so that only a few would have access.

"Having trouble?" Harry called out, crossing his arms behind his back as he made steady pace down the stairs.

Quirrell snapped around with the speed of a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar, eyes wide and filled with no small amount of terror; an emotion that faded slightly when he noticed it was only Harry. A foolish man's mistake. Wand pointed at the child before him the defense professor marched forward with intent. As the gap closed Harry could feel the parasite's hunger.

" _Potter!_ I should've known Dumbledore would choose you!" The man cried angrily with his wand shaking from pent up rage, or perhaps fear. A curse found its way to the tip of his tongue and Harry's hands sparked with lightning, but a hoarse voice stopped them both.

"The boy...let me speak to the boy..."

"But master, you're still to weak to-" Quirrell never finished his sentence as he doubled over in pain, eyes twisted hard as he dropped his wand. Harry looked on with glee filled eyes, more than enjoying watching the man he so despised suffering. When it was over the older man stood, unwrapping his turban.

On the mirror behind Harry could finally make out the sickly parasite he had so often felt yet never seen; a hideous creature that was little more than a malformed tumor with a face. What a disgusting beast it was, relying on the power of others to survive. Its face contorted in an ill-formed attempt at a smile, the look sent a shiver of revulsion down the boy's spine.

"Do not be a fool..." The parasite whispered in his mind, "Why suffer death when you can join me..."

"No..." Harry smirked darkly, "I don't think I will."

A snarl formed across its face. "Bravery? Your parents had it to. Tell me, Harry, would you like to see your mother and father again?" Its eyes darted to the mirror and Harry followed its gaze curiously.

Did it seriously think his parents where what he saw in the mirror of desire, that his deepest wish was to be with them once more? This beast was nearly as vacuous as the man which hosted it. What stared back at him in the mirror was a beautiful sight, but his parents were not among the figures standing within the silver-backed surface.

A grand throne of ebony colored metal and cushioned with bright crimson fabrics centered the picture being painted before him. Atop the throne and older version of him sat with a triumphant smile; to his right Draco stood, arms crossed behind his back with the same smile. On his left was Daphne, her flirtatious smirk stretching happily across her lips as she sat atop the throne's arm, leaning against him slightly. Tracey and Blaise stood just behind Draco and Daphne respectively.

Fictional that was not, it was the future he would come to see pass, even if it meant he would stand atop a mountain of skulls to do so.

The crimson crystal of the philosopher's stone appeared in Daphne's hand, the blond haired beauty's eyes shimmering with mirth as she gently slid the stone into his reflection's pocket; a moment after she pulled him into a deep kiss. A weight fell into his pocket as a smirk grew across his face. A future he would see come to pass indeed.

Lightly his eyes flickered to the parasite and its host, briefly considering what to do with the two of them. Of course one was a professor, meaning that should he die down here then all manner of problems could be brought to light. Then again that creature had dared to try and steal what was his, a crime of which the penalty was capital; a punishment he had already brought to bear once today.

"I grow weary of your games, parasite." Harry faux-yawned, lightning cackling between his fingers. The snarl that split the parasites lips brought a smile to his face, just as he had intended.

Quirrell froze as the creature on the back of his head whispered something rapidly. Then the man sprung to life, suddenly flying across the room with a maddened cry with his arms outstretched. Harry brought his arms up, white hot arcs of electricity racing from his fingertips and meeting the man halfway. Quirrell flew back, slamming against the mirror and sending shards of it crashing to the ground.

The same sound as before with Nott echoed through the room as Harry made a grasping motion with his hand. The infected professor rose into the air, eyes wide and full of fear as his legs kicked uselessly in the air. Harry felt a twisted smirk rise across his cheeks.

Slowly he paced closer to the choking man. "Do you know your problem is?" Harry tilted his head to the side as the parasite roared in rage, not nearly as hindered by the lack of breath as his host. "You believe yourself to be powerful, a king among men." He shook his head in mock pity, "But before you stands a _GOD_ you filthy wretch."

Harry raised his other hand, snapping his fingers once. Beautiful blue flames engulfed the man, the human pyre lighting the dark room as his pained screams flooded the silence. For a moment the only sound in the room was the duel screams of the defense professor and the creature he hosted as they burned there, kicking and screaming in the air, begging for death.

No one... _no one_ stole from him and if he would have had the time Theodore Nott would have suffered a much darker fate.

As the charred body dropped to the ground he summoned a red crystal, matching the stone perfectly in size and shape, the threw it roughly to the ground. It shattered into a thousand indistinguishable shards. There would be no proof he took the real stone and the body was all but destroyed, now all that was required was for him to escape this pit.

 **~)** )0( **(~**

Terrible silence reigned over the Slytherin common room, the sheer lack of sound louder than any screams.

Vinson had taken it upon himself to lead them from the great hall not long after Harry had left; many had not wanted to follow but his place as their perfect gave him a bit more leeway when it came to giving them orders. Discussion had been lively when they arrived, after all a Troll was rampaging through the castle and _someone_ would have had to let it in.

When the stone snake had slid aside they had fully expected to see Snape, or even the entirety of the King and his peerage. They had not expected a lonesome sovereign, madness dancing in his eyes and stygian magic rolling off him in freezing waves, those he passed too close to shivered, their breath visible in the air.

Storming into the general commons without a word, boots thudding heavily against the floor for the first time, he had twisted his makeshift throne with a no more than a small spinning motion with an extended index finger. Yet it was not his rage that enforced their silence, but the brooding.

Their Lord had always been sure of himself; every thought came three steps ahead, every word spoken to to precise effect, every action perfectly timed and preformed to perfection. His silence exuded an oppressive air, a general apprehension of what was to come next. Vinson, who seemed to confident for his own good, had attempted to confront their leader, seeing the pensive King as easily overthrown. His reward for such action was being thrown into a couch and lying in a state of unconsciousness not far from the overturned furniture.

When the four had returned they had immediately sensed the general feeling of unease in the air. Tracey and Daphne seemed to fidget nervously, the latter of the two more calm that the former but even her perfect mask of confidence had begun to crack. Draco looked curious, yet at the same time timid and uncomfortable with whatever situation had brought all this one.

Blaise though, the ever confident boy seemed to stride comfortably across the room, leading the three behind with with a calm mask of indifference. Underneath even he was unsure with with what he had heard. Daphne had told them of the happenings in the bathroom and when the two boys had shown only disbelief Tracey had quickly reassured them that it was true.

Harry Potter was not human.

Those around the room nearly jumped from their skin when a heavy thud echoed across the room. All eyes turned to the away-facing throne where Harry had just slammed his fist down on the arm. An angry growl rumbled lowly in his throat, the sound of an enraged animal.

"Out..." He snarled, leaving the threat open-ended. In but a moment the room was nearly devoid of life—two braver Slytherins carried out the still unconscious Vinson—only the King and his Lords resting in a tense silence.

They made their way over quickly, moving to stand before him but dared not speak first. A flick of his wrist righted the upturned couch, the unspoken order to sit heeded with the same speed undertaken by those who had fled the room. When Harry said nothing more the four glanced between one another, a silent argument raging as to who would be the first to speak.

Tracey lost.

"Harry we-" A hand shot up in a moment silencing her before she could utter another word. They felt his magic wash over them, seeking any onlookers who had dared remain behind. When the magic retracted he looked deeply into each of their eyes, raising one hand, and snapping his fingers.

Tracey and Draco both sucked air through their teeth in surprise and Blaise's eyes grew wide. Once more his pale flesh shimmered out of existence, this time fading completely instead of becoming almost transparent. Their eyes roamed his new form, the slight narrowing of his eyes, the hardly noticeable ridge that ran around his eyes and down his cheeks to the two horn like spikes on his chin, two more of these same spikes in the center of his jawline.

No longer did he posses eyebrows, two other small ridges replacing them. His ears too changed slightly, a tiny spike on the top facing pack. When he offered a weak smile, a futile attempt to hide his nervousness, they took note of his teeth; only the first four on the top and bottom remained the same, the rest sharpened and his cuspids elongated slightly.

Blaise inspected him for a moment before trying to voice what they were all thinking, "You're not-"

"Human?" Harry cut in bitterly. He shook his head lightly, "No...I've had doctor's look me over since I join the magical world, each sworn to secrecy, naturally."

The red-skinned teen raised his hand slightly and inspected it; for the first time they noticed the slightly more pointed shape of his dark nails, as if naturally formed that way. He gave a sullen laugh, refusing to meet the gaze of those he trusted most for the fear of rejection, as difficult as that was to admit to himself.

"My bones are denser and well as my muscles, my heart is larger and slightly displaced, both lungs are identical compared to the asymmetric lungs of humans. My endocrine and renal systems are much more developed and I have near perfect night vision." He lowered his hand, rising to meet the eyes of the one he most feared rejection from. Violet clashed with amber as a long sigh escaped him. "My parents _are_ James and Lily Potter, but my DNA is something else, something dormant in my familial line passed down like a magical trait, only now active."

Daphne stood and strode over to him without a word, her features an unreadable mask. Harry locked eyes with her, refusing to look any weaker than he already had, strength was in his nature and weakness was a thought that disgusted him. Their eyes remained locked as she reached out and softly caressed his cheek, running one dainty finger down one of his ridges.

Giving a light laugh she murmured just loud enough for him to hear, "I think I remember telling you before the break that _red_ was my favorite color."

Harry's eyes shot down to her other hand, the crimson-jeweled ring he had gifted her shimmering softly back at him. Behind her Blaise and Draco rose in unison, Tracey following closely behind, and fell to their knees a moment later. Daphne curled a finger around a single spike on his chin, using it to bring his attention upwards once more.

"We are yours to command, my Lord."

 **~)** )0( **(~**

What little time remained of the school year had passed by quickly. Harry had been, under a quick series of lies thought up by his two female circle members, been heralded as a hero. A supposed accidental bought of magic had lashed out in defense of the two and killed the Troll; unfortunately he had been unable to save Theodore Nott in time and the beast had killed the boy.

According to the papers at least.

After narrowly avoiding a conversation with the headmaster, something he knew was going to happen eventually but cared little for dealing with the man now, he had went directly to Gringotts. Of course the little creatures were of no help, offering little in the way of the information he so strongly desired; in this case the location of his ancestral home.

Searching through his vault, and contemplating bringing down the entire bank in his anger, he had discovered a ring linked to his new home and instructions on how to use it. What met him was a home worthy of his status.

An ancient fortress resided atop an ocean battered mountain not far from British mainland. Sky reaching towers, stained glass windows, beautiful statues, and a circular platform with a long bridge as the only point of entrance outside the powerful wards. Each of the stones were saturated with generations of his family's magics, the castle itself nearly alive with their power.

His great-grandfather had chosen to abandon the fortress and its twisted magics, a man with taste for the more light-sided flow of magic. Sadly the cowardice of his _dear_ family had left him all manner of messes to clean up. Magical castles were just as prone to dust and spiders as any others and one this large required more than one set of hands to clean; not that someone of his station was willing to sully himself with such work.

Four house-elves had been enough, the disgusting little creatures happily setting about removing the grim buildup without a word of complaint. As they cleaned he had taken to exploring his ancestral halls and had been quite surprised with some of his findings. It the tallest tower was a single lectern, a scroll atop it and a tome below.

The scroll was an advance transportation spell and instructions on how to meet the vast energy requirements, the tome listed every member of the family who had ever used the spell. It was a beautiful peace of work, using ley-lines and a few live sacravices to move not only the castle, but the mountain it was built upon. A few of the names and locations were beyond him, but the most recent had been Morgan Le Fay.

Farther below resided the library, five floors of endless shelves and containers, rows of wooden walkways bridging the large central gap and banners of his family sigil hanging limply throughout the room. Tomes filled with ancient spells and languages, tablets carved with strange symbols and the likeness of long forgotten creatures, scrolls made of human skin, and a few trinkets ranging from extinct creature skulls and strange devices radiating danger.

What was most interesting was the lowest floor, in the very center of the room, resided a strange symbol cut into the center of the mountain itself. A hexagon with divides cut into each of the straight bits, inside a six pointed star pointed toward each corner with arrow like protrusions. Below hummed sealing wards, untouched for generations.

Two entire weeks had been spent trying to whittle down the seal's defenses to little avail. No magics would lift it and not even the most advance unlocking charms would tear it from the floor. At one point he had tried lightning only to be flung across the room into a rather irritated house-elf, who he had then thrown at the door in retaliation.

What little information he had found within the library about this symbol came in the form of blueprints, each near the point of withering away from age. The symbol had not been built within the castle, rather the castle itself had been constructed _around_ the symbol. In the end this had only made him all the more eager to learn what was so desperately concealed by such a long-standing family of dark magicians.

Ironically the answer was his very same family...his _blood_ if you will. The section on blood magic completely surrounded magic seal and was among some of the oldest tomes and most powerful points of magical saturation. An elf had arrived with the blade he had requested, disappearing before it could witness its master harm himself.

With a flick of his wrist he slit a small cut into his left palm right along one of the grooves. After allowing the life sustaining liquid pool for a moment he turned his hand over, watching calmly as it splashed against the floor. For a moment nothing happened and he was sure that his deduction was misplaced, that is until a mechanical clink followed the dispersion of the long standing magics.

A serious of heavy thuds followed as the stones around slowly sunk into the floor, steadily forming a spiraling staircase leading deep into the unknown. With a snap of his fingers he summoned a fireball to his palm, lighting the long path downward. After what felt like hours he reached the antechamber to a much larger room, robed statues lined the path with an ominous air about them.

The main room was simple with a small number of decaying shelves housing equally as tattered scrolls. A large rusted door sat far in the back, looking much more muggle than anything he had seen in the magical world before. Finally, in the center of the room resided a strange object; a glowing red crystal formed into a pyramid.

An object that was slowly rising into the air.


End file.
